


Welcome to the Dumpster Fire

by falloutboiruto



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Parallels, Dark Comedy, Developing Friendships, Family Bonding, Found Family, Gallows Humor, Gen, Kawaki and Mitsuki endlessly shittalk Kara members and Orochimaru w/ eachother, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sibling Rivalry, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, background sarada/boruto and mitsuki/boruto, lots of swearing. Im talking f-bombs. Several!!, mentions of alcohol and an analogy to underage binge drinking, miserable angry teen rebellion, miserable emotionally disconnected/repressed tween trying to help, supreme edgelordyness, unreliable MEAN narrator, very frank discussion of child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28505064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutboiruto/pseuds/falloutboiruto
Summary: Kawaki is trying to adjust to his new life in Konohagakure. He hates everyone, and everything sucks. Mitsuki keeps saying that the two of them have more in common than what Kawaki thinks, but he's dead wrong. Unless...?
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. born to die, world is a fuck

**Author's Note:**

> okay so. i was just thinking that jigen(kawaki's abusive father figure) is basically a punk edit of orochimaru(mitsuki's abusive parental figure). and so, this fanfic was born. enjoy!  
> everyone will become bros later but DISCLAIMER kawaki is very mean at first. also this fanfic is extremely unkind to both jigen AND orochimaru. i personally love both of those characters but i felt it would make sense for kawaki and mitsuki to be pretty mad at them  
> beta read by reaperduckling

Kawaki had adjusted to living in Konohagakure _just fine_ , thank you. A few weeks was all that he needed. Sure, the only person he had the slightest respect for was Lord 7th and he hated everyone else’s guts. That was true. But, he had a good reason to hate everyone else-

They all sucked.

He slouched over the greasy restaurant table as his “foster-brother” and his teammates gobbled down fast “food”. Now, Kawaki had tried eating a piece(that Boruto had offered in an obvious and pathetic bribe to try getting into his good graces), but the saltiness had hurt his tongue. Kara(evil organization, his previous caretakers/captors, and intense nightmare fodder) had never served him food with any kind of spice. And so, most above-ground food was all-too overwhelming to eat. “Remind of me why I’m babysitting you guys again?” Kawaki droned. He just wanted to go back to Lord 7th’s house and be left alone again.

“-For the last time, you are not _babysitting_ us-”

Glasses-girl interrupted Boruto before he inevitably erupted of pre-teen rage.

“In fact, it’s the other way around.” She pushed her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose with a flick of her middle finger. There was no way that it wasn’t on purpose.

“Where do you get off-”

“Kawaki, Sarada’s right!” Boruto intercut. “Mom asked us to take you outside to see the town! You’re new here, and you keep getting lost whenever you go outside. And sulking in your room all day isn’t going to help you!”

“She’s not my real Mom, she can’t tell me what to do!”

Boruto snatched Kawaki by the collar and leaned over the restaurant table between them, bringing his red-hot fuming face only centimeters from Kawaki’s. If Boruto noticed Kawaki's surprise-induced full-body flinch, then he was too angry to care. "Well, she’s my real Mom, anyway, so show some respect!” His voice broke the middle of his sentence, which shifted the moment from mildly irritating(once Kawaki’s reflex to wince at sudden movements near his face had worn off)to hilarious.

With surprising(and terrifying) physical strength, Glasses firmly pressed Boruto down in his seat by his shoulders. His grip on Kawaki’s collar loosened, so he too was able to yet again thump down on the alarmingly sticky pleather sofa.

“You need to calm down, Boruto,” Glasses said. She spat out his name as if it was a curse. “Thunder Burger is going to ban us for real if they have to kick us out again!” 

Boruto started squabbling with his teammate instead, so Kawaki seized the moment to scoff and look out the window by their booth. Everything on the outside city street looked _stupid_. The other teammate, the quiet one wearing clothes several sizes too big, sat in the corner in-between Kawaki and the window. He looked stupid too. Especially as he sort-of-but-not-really made eye contact with Kawaki and opened his stupid mouth to stupidly ask;

“Have you ever considered anger management training?”

Oh. Unexpected and misdirected. “Am I really the one that needs it, though?” Kawaki gestured towards Boruto and Glasses. They had regressed into silly slap-fighting.

“Yes. Boruto and Sarada fighting all the time is just an expression of their built up romantic tension. There’s no real bite to it. You, on the other hand, are actually being mean on purpose.”

Boruto and Glasses(Sarada?) interrupted their(extremely entertaining) slap fight to scream “We do not have romantic tension!” in one voice. To (dis)prove their point they both blushed, crossed their arms, looked anywhere but at each other and scooted as far apart as possible.

“Anyway,” what’s-his-face continued. “I’m an outwardly mellow person. Perhaps you could learn from me.”

“What’s your name again?.”

Boruto grumbled and gritted his teeth through his palm covering his face. ”His. Name. Is. Mitsuki! He. Is. My. Friend.” He slammed his hands on the table. “Kawaki, If you want to act like a jerk towards me-Go ahead. But you don’t have to be rude to my friends just because you have this extreme attitude problem-”

“- _I’m_ the one with an attitude problem?”

Mitsuki(?) and Sarada(?) exchanged serious nods. Then, the girl got up, hoisted Boruto over her shoulder and carried him, kicking and screaming, out of the restaurant. Just before leaving, she made sure to put their trays of leftover salad clippings and greasy wrapping paper away on the dish trolley. The sudden quiet was deafening, and Kawaki was suddenly aware that every head in the room was turned against them. He had never been good with being the center of attention. It never boded well. Bowing his head down like a turtle retreating into its shell, he wished that he could just disappear, or that this sort of stuff wouldn’t bother him anymore. When he looked up- _Eugh_ , Mitsuki had unexpectedly shuffled much closer and was staring a burning hole into his soul. 

“Do you always flinch at sudden movements?” Mitsuki narrowed his eyes. As if he knew something about Kawaki that he wasn't supposed to know. Well, he didn’t!

“I don’t do that. At all. Ever.”

Mitsuki leaned back on the couch and adjusted to a proper social distance. “Okay. Change of subject. Weren’t you supposed to see the town today? And since everybody else you know that could show you around has left… you don’t suppose you’d have to come with me, do you?”

This shamefully obvious attempt at manipulation didn’t do much to convince Kawaki of anything, but he did kind of need Mitsuki to get back to Boruto’s house (well, technically it was Lord 7th house. But Boruto did indeed live there much like a squatter with the attitude of a piss-ant). He’d get lost otherwise.

“ _Fine_.”

-

Showing Kawaki around the town ended with them standing in the middle of a grass lawn in a nearby park. Kawaki had not been expecting this, but he hadn’t known what to expect at all.

“So, welcome to anger management training,” Mitsuki explained. “Today’s excercise is screaming into a pillow. The emotions that I personally release through this method are hard to define, but I can imagine that anger would make an excellent choice.”

Kawaki blinked and squinted at him. Then, he blinked again(in that order). Still, nothing about this made sense.

“What pillow are you talking about?” Became his first question(one of many).

Mitsuki stuck his hand into his fanny pack and pulled out a surprisingly large pillow with flower-printed casing. “This one.”

“Did you have that pillow in your bag the whole time?” The confusion caused by this surreal turn in their lukewarm conversation rattled Kawaki’s brain to the point of him forgetting everything else he wanted to ask.

“Yes, how else could I do this exercise on the regular?” Mitsuki sounded just as confused as Kawaki felt. “It also comes in handy in case Boruto wants to take a nap.”

“Does your life revolve around him or something…?”

“Yes. Now, let me demonstrate.” Mitsuki smushed his face into the pillow. His muffled, monotone scream was still somehow loud enough to necessitate Kawaki putting his fingers in his ears and taking a step back. At least he wouldn’t keep it up for a long time.

_Ten minutes later_

Surprising Kawaki as much as any passerby that walked by the (regrettable) pair, Mitsuki still screamt into the pillow. Impressive as it was, frankly, it was also embarrassingly weird. At this point, the best thing for Kawaki to do would be to throw his hands up to walk away from this entire, uh, situation. He could just start completely ignoring Mitsuki again. When around Bratuto and Glasses-Girl, Mitsuki possessed the personality of damp cardboard. And, he, aside from this display of what could only be complete insanity, only physically manifested in conjunction to his two rabid gremlin friends. And so; avoiding any sort of contact with Mitsuki would be a doozy. Kawaki turned away and-

“I’m not done,” Mitsuki chided, his voice and face reading as completely neutral despite him having spent the last ten minutes screaming into a pillow. He momentarily put said pillow down and fixed Kawaki with a stare that stopped him right in his tracks. Somehow, Mitsuki’s 180° shift from ‘complete crazy person’ back to 'blander than watching paint dry’ intimidated him. Enough for him to stay, that was.

“Okay. Well, I think I get the picture now,” Kawaki snarked. A small gathering of curious park-goers had now congealed behind a nearby(but still at a respectable distance)grouping of bushes that were large enough to act as bad camouflage.

“Don’t mind the peanut gallery,” Mitsuki didn’t even spare the onlookers a glance. “This is what healthy people do. They let out their frustrations in a constructive way.”

“ _Clearly_.” 

And Mitsuki began screaming into the pillow anew. 

_Five minutes later_

“Your turn.” Mitsuki resurfaced without any sort of prior warning. Kawaki didn’t jump in surprise. He didn’t. Absolutely not.

Mitsuki, graciously enough, didn’t comment on Kawaki’s jumpiness and offered Kawaki his pillow. At first contact with it, Kawaki deeply regretted accepting it. Frankly, it made him consider leaving Konohagakure altogether and returning to his prior life as Kara’s lab rat.

“Mitsuki, this has your spit on it.”

“Yes. Of course. Turn it to the other side.”

“But then my hands are on the spit stains!”

“According to the laws to equivalent exchange, in order to gain something; something of equal value must be lost-”

Enough stupid nerd talk. Kawaki flipped the pillow, placed his hands strategically to avoid touching whatever germs Mitsuki could’ve contaminated its casing with, and drew a deep breath. He gathered pent-up-frustration from every last cell in his body and released it in a (pillow-soundproofed) roar. In the distance, a flock of birds took flight from the high treetops.

“Did that feel good?” Mitsuki asked.

“It still wasn’t as good as yours.” Kawaki had no idea why he was disappointed by this. Kind of seemed like being _unlike_ Mitsuki would be a good thing.

“Don’t compare yourself to me. Due to my wind chakra nature I, predictably enough, have higher lung capacity than most.”

“Do you ever listen to yourself talk?”

“Yes, because I can hear.” A quiet beat passed. Then; “Is the reason for your snappiness that you feel emasculated by me being better at something, frivolous as it was?”

Boruto would _so_ snitch on Kawaki to Lord 7th if he throttled his friend. Time to calm down.“If I say yes, will you shut up and show me the way back to my house?”

“I was going to do that anyways. I’m just interested in the thought process behind the spirit of competition. Am I right about it mainly being a guy thing? Girls don’t get as competitive about feats of physical prowess from what I’ve seen. Also, another notable gender difference I’ve found is that guys are way less likely to discuss feelings compared to girls. Is that something you’ve noticed as well?”

“Beats me.” Kawaki just wanted to go home. Please, just let him get home.

“Since you’re avoiding discussion of the inner workings of your mind as of this moment, I’ll consider this a point in favor of my theories.”

“What about the inner workings of your mind, then?” Kawaki said. Mitsuki just blinked at him. “I mean, why are you doing this?”

“Oh,” Mitsuki launched into an explanation that somehow felt rehearsed. “Because pillow-screaming feels good. I don’t understand my emotions at all, and this way- I don’t have to really think about them. I thought it would help you too.”

There was something deeply sad in the implications of that statement, but Kawaki simply didn’t care enough to examine them. He smacked the pillow into Mitsuki’s chest, expecting him to take it back. He didn’t.

“I also suspected that we stem from similar upbringings,” Mitsuki continued(instead of taking his stupid pillow and showing Kawaki his stupid way home). “We’re alike in some ways, even though our personalities are polar opposites.”

“You and I are nothing alike.” Kawaki dropped the pillow and stomped away on the grass lawn. When it hit him(again) that he wasn’t going to find his way home without Mitsuki’s help, he looked over his shoulder. Mitsuki just stood there, in the exact spot where he had left him, staring out into space. He held the pillow in one limp hand. Completely still enough for it to be unnerving. Even the crowd of onlookers behind the bushes had lost interest and left at this point.

“Can you take me home?”

No response.

“Ugh-Can you _please_ take me home, Mitsuki?”

He had finally caught Mitsuki’s attention. “Oh, right,” Mitsuki said. He stuffed the pillow into his fanny pack and briskly walked in the opposite direction. “Boruto’s house is this way,” he said, motioning thataways with his thumb.

“I knew that.” Kawaki had not known that. 

They walked in silence.

-

Releasing a deep breath he'd been unaware of holding, Kawaki finally shut the front door behind him. _Thank god_ the madness was finally over. He was never, ever going to talk to Mitsuki ever again. Maybe he meant well, but he was just. Too weird.

“So,” Boruto shouted from the living room couch. “How’d your hang-out with Mitsuki go?” 

He was smiling, of all things, once Kawaki got close enough to tell. Relaxed. Girl-Boruto(his little sister) sat across him and was, from the looks of it, completely trouncing her brother in a game of cards. Dishes clackered in the background; Lord 7th and his-wife-that-had-asked-Kawaki-to-call-her-Hinata-but-Kawaki-wasn’t-quite-there-yet were making dinner. The domesticity of it all was so picturesque that Kawaki’s stomach plummeted. This was all wrong. Was this what he’d been missing out on for all this time? _This_ ? Normal family life? If this is what families were supposed to be like, why did _this_ make his skin crawl and his head spin-

“Uh, Kawaki?” Boruto’s smile fell and was replaced with uncertainty and what terrifyingly enough resembled _concern_. “I asked you a question. Did you have fun, or...?”

Everyone in his new family was looking at him. Like they actually cared about him. Like they wanted to know what he felt, wanted, and had thought of during his day. It was all so incredibly loud. At least back when he’d gotten beaten everyday he had known what to expect-

“I don’t understand why you’re friends with that guy,” Kawaki snapped. “He’s even worse than you.”

In an instant, Boruto jumped over the back of the couch and was all up in Kawaki’s face, again. His chest cramped for air and his eyelids spasmed closed in anticipation. Then, he remembered that Boruto was a head shorter than him and more bark than bite. He wasn’t a real threat.

“-you listening to me? Mitsuki is my friend! You don’t get to talk about him like that!” Boruto’s spit flew just about everywhere. “He is trying to help you! If you actually tried to get to know him, you’d realize that he’s the most loyal, supportive person in this entire village-”

A held-out large kitchen cutting board separated them. Lord 7th had gotten in-between them, again, and gotten creative with his methods. He held the cutting board at Boruto’s eye-height, covering his face. Boruto got on his tip-toes to try to peer over it, so Lord 7th adjusted it again to continue blocking Boruto’s line of sight. When Boruto squatted down lower, his father repeated the motion.

“Ugh, Dad!” Boruto whined. Kawaki couldn’t see his face, but was pleased by Boruto’s voice betraying that he was on the verge of crying from frustrated exhaustion. “Kawaki’s being an asshole again!”

“Boruto, language! I can’t leave you two alone for a second!” Lord 7th’s face flushed when he got angry too, Kawaki noted. A father-son resemblance. “You fight about fighting, about fighting! Kawaki’s still adjusting to things, you need to give him a break-”

And as quick as that, Kawaki was off the hook. Boruto redirected his fury and wailed at his Father instead, and Kawaki made the decision to stomp up the stairs to his room. Business as usual. But something stopped him. A razor-sharp screech of static in his ears drowned out the godawful background noise of the shouting-match happening two meters away from him. In the periphery, Himawari had moved to the kitchen to embrace her Mom. Hinata-san (or whatever she wanted him to call her. He didn’t care)stared far off into a corner. Shoulders tense, a reassuring hand in her daughter's hair.

In moments like this, Kawaki was painfully reminded of the never-changing constant of life; he would always lose. He could never be happy. He could never be loved. Because there was something deeply, innately wrong with him.

-

Kawaki’s bedroom walls(technically it wasn’t his. It was the guest room) suddenly closed in on him. He didn’t remember walking up the stairs. Someone(probably Boruto’s Mom), had pulled the blinds up while he’d been out. The last rays of daylight trickled through the window, and he _hated it_. After he’d made sure that the room was completely dark again(almost breaking the blinds in the process), he collapsed on his bed. Well, the guest bed, to the exact(who was he trying to convince?). The familliary of the surrounding darkness comforted him, strangely enough. It followed the old script. The old song-and-dance. The same old routine. Everything else, nice as it might seem, was never going to last. 


	2. sugar rush brain mush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!IMPORTANT!!! READ THIS FIRST!!!!  
> the first scene in this chapter is an on-screen depiction of domestic abuse. not super graphic, but it could be triggering to some.  
> also; most of this chapter is centered around an analogy for underage binge drinking. the characters are messy metaphorical drunks and act out/mentally break down in a way that could be percieved as disturbing.
> 
> beta read by reaperduckling, yet again!!! :D thank you bro. vi får aldrig glömma hjärsta gangsters

_The dark had been scary, at first. Soon enough it became a sanctuary. Because, then, at least Kawaki would be-_

_A switch went off. He was startled wide awake by flickering fluorescent light. After jolting up from the floor, he lowered his protective arms far enough from his face to recognize Jigen’s tall figure standing in the doorway. Kawaki screwed his eyes shut hard enough for dazzling lights to start dancing on the inside of his eyelids. He opened his eyes again. They still hurt._

_Jigen was still in the doorway. His hand gripped the doorknob exactly like it crushed throats. Jigen was still weighing his options. Then, his fingers unfurled. As he took a step forward, Kawaki scampered a step backward. He couldn’t get away any further away than that. Jigen wouldn’t let him. Ever._

Kawaki clawed his way out from the claustrophobic nest of blankets. The room was completely dark. There was still time before-

-His eyesight adjusted itself enough to the lack of light for him to recognize his surroundings. He wasn’t in Kara’s lab anymore. He was in a pampered guest bed with a soft mattress and decorative throw pillows. A doily under the nightstand lamp, Uzumaki family photos on the walls. He was supposed to be happy about this, but he wasn’t. He hated it. Burrowing himself under the thick blankets again felt comforting. Like home. If the lights weren’t on, he’d be left alone. He’d be safe-

_-Jigen’s hand pulling and grabbing his hair to hold him still. The man's black eyes stared a hole into Kawaki's forehead. Then, a knock at the doorway. "Jigen,” a female voice snarked. “You’re late for your own meeting. Again."_

_Jigen was going to leave. Kawaki would be allowed to close his eyes again, thank go-_

_“We’re not finished here!” Jigen roared right into Kawaki’s ear, crushing him, pulverizing him-_

_“Delta. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Jigen addressed the other Kara member with perfect calm. Kawaki watched, he had to, as Delta threaded her fingers through her wavy blonde hair and flipped it in sync with her turn to leave. Then, a non-sequitur over her shoulder; “Maybe you should pen out your visits to the vessel in your calendar so the rest of us don’t have to wait for your old ass when you double-book yourself. Toodles!”_

_Not even Delta’s dismissive parting wave or the obnoxiously loud click-clack of her heels stirred Jigen's temper. That was until he directed his full attention to Kawaki again. Kawaki’s whole body ached, but most of all, it hurt to keep his eyes open. That way he had to watch as Jigen’s lips formed the words; “Now, where were we?”_

Later, when Boruto’s Mom knocked on Kawaki’s door to tell him that breakfast was ready, he yelled at her to get lost. He also sent a decorative pillow flying into the closed door. It thumped back on the floor again in an incredibly unsatisfactory way.

“Ok!” Her voice was still cheery, yet strained (Kawaki could tell. She couldn’t hide it from him). “Whenever you’re ready, Kawaki!” Her footstep grew fainter and fainter. He wished she’d come back. That, and that she’d get out of his life permanently. The last option was easier to process, so he picked that one.

-

Somehow, Kawaki un-entrenched himself from dwelling in his (the guest) room and went outside. The sun was out. There were people outside taking leisurely strolls. Boruto’s Mom had even offered to accompany him on such a leisurely stroll. Everyone else was out of the house, after all. 

“I can show you where the library is,” she suggested.

He refused.

“Well, that’s okay too. If you get lost I’ll have an easy time finding you. Don’t worry-”

-Kawaki walked out on her, mid-sentence. He stole a quick look over his shoulders to see if she had followed him. She hadn’t. While Kawaki busied himself by swallowing a lump in his throat, he walked by an intersecting street and knocked into someone shorter than him.

“Oh. You’re outside again,” a tween boy stated blankly. A tween boy who looked suspiciously identical to Mitsuki. It was Mitsuki. Crap. “You’re alone?”

“What-what are you doing here, you little twerp-”

“I’ve been standing here for hours, just waiting for you to show up.”

“ _Why_?”

“Because I’m being sarcastic,” Mitsuki almost seemed amused, but it was hard to tell. “I have the day off and went gift shopping for a friend. We ran into each other by coincidence.”

“Well. That’s. Great.” Kawaki immediately started brainstorming excuses to leave. He decided on ‘running away really fast’, but before just that-

“I know why Boruto gets so mad at you all the time,” Mitsuki said. “You could run away after I tell you. Sounds good?”

“I wasn’t going to run away,” Kawaki muttered and unclenched his sprinting muscles.

“Right. So, Boruto’s main problem with you is that he perceives you as a rival in the battle for his father’s affections. And also because you start fights all the time and get away with it when he doesn’t. Also, you’re very mean to everyone he cares about. Other than that, he likes you.”

 _Harsh._ “That’s a lot of reasons.”

“Yes. He has mentioned some pettier disagreements in the Team 7 group chat, but I took it upon myself to prioritize by relevancy. Ergo, parts of your tumultuous relationship aren’t your fault. It is your fault most of the time, but when Boruto’s father takes your side in arguments it does, verbatim; ‘mess with him’.”

“I don’t even want Lord 7th to take my side! I’m not his real son. Why does he care so much?”

“Because you’re fragile and your temper tantrums are just you acting out,” Mitsuki said. While that statement in itself was extremely judge-y, the delivery wasn’t. “He sees that you require care.”

“I’m not. I just ruin things. I can’t change that.” It was hard to keep track of what he was saying anymore. Like as though he could just blurt out anything. Kawaki couldn’t remember why he wanted to avoid Mitsuki in the first place.

“Nope. Your perception of yourself isn’t objective. There’s no such thing as an inherently bad person.”

That simple assessment, that string of words that could’ve easily just have been filterable gibberish, said with a monotone inflection and complete lack of eye-contact, was somehow the nicest thing Kawaki had been told.

“Hey, do you have time to hang out today?” An unfamiliar voice asked. It was not until after Mitsuki agreed that Kawaki recognized the voice as his own.

“Since Boruto’s not here to decide I’m going to suggest an activity,” Mitsuki said as they started walking together in an unspecific direction. “I think that we, like normal children our age, should buy candy and enjoy what entertainment the city has to offer.”

-

The slack-jawed look on the candy store cashier’s face when Mitsuki and Kawaki hoisted their overflowing buckets of candy to the cash register implied that they might be overdoing it. But all those doubts faded away like clouds in the sky when Kawaki’s tongue first came into contact with a sugary treat. Sugar was clearly superior to salt. He couldn’t get enough of it.

-

Other than being delicious, sugar had some interesting side effects; Kawaki was suddenly relaxed and less on-edge. Mitsuki, on the other hand, turned excitable and hyper. The plot of the movie they saw in the cinema turned incomprehensible-all Kawaki could focus on was that he wasn’t flinching every time Mitsuki threw popcorn at the screen. Which was a lot of times. They ended up getting kicked out. Literally. Straight out the backdoor into a shady alleyway with at least five different dumpsters in it.

“Where to now, my friend?” Mitsuki bit off the head of a gummy bear with the ferociousness of a real bear ripping a deer apart.

Once Kawaki stopped his bent-in-half wheeze-laughing for long enough to suggest a new location, they went on their merry way there. 

-

After getting kicked out of a lot of establishments (and having fun doing it), they ended up at the Ninja Academy Schoolyard. Mitsuki’s old school, he said. Mitsuki raced to the gazebo that apparently was ‘the best one’ and Kawaki took his word for it. They placed their half-empty candy buckets at the gazebo doorway and Kawaki sat down on one of the benches-

“Don’t,” Mitsuki protested. “Sit down on the ground. It’s cooler.”

And so, Kawaki joined his new forever best friend on the (slightly dusty) tarmac. It was funny. Everything was so funny now. Especially Mitsuki’s newfound love of endless chirpy rambling.

“I miss this school so much! At lunch, Boruto would always run out of class early to call dibs on this very gazebo. Boruto is so cool. I wonder what he’s doing right now. Should we call him? Should _I_ call him? Just to say hi, you know? Or is that too forward? Oh my god, there he comes!” He waved his hands all over the place. _Very_ erratic, and _very_ anxious.

Kawaki whipped his head around and yes, Boruto (and Sarada) were indeed approaching in the distance with strong, determined steps.

“Act natural! I can't let Boruto know that I care. Or that I've consumed sugar. Just act natural!” Mitsuki stopped bouncing around like a hyperactive squirrel to tense up to perfect stillness. It was almost convincing.

“Hi Boruto,” Kawaki said with a pleasantness that came naturally by now. He even half-waved at them, like in a chill-yet-nice way. “ _Sarada_.” He nodded his head in a greeting. “What’s up, you two?”

Mitsuki furiously smoothed down his hair. “Boruto? How did you find me? Were you looking for me-” He cleared his throat to cease his flustered babbling and return to his normal calm and composed demeanor. “Boruto. Sarada. My two teammates. How did you find _me_ -uh, I mean, _us_.” _Or not._

A long, slightly awkward pause followed. Boruto and Sarada exchanged sly glances and;

“Oh. Hi, Mitsuki!” Boruto cheered and frantically waved at his friend. Then, his arms fell limp to his sides. Boruto’s smile faded and a cold, pinched look replaced it. He jerked his head in Kawaki’s direction without actually looking at him. “I hope you’re well. I suppose that guy isn’t bothering you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Mitsuki said. “We’re having fun. How’d you-how’d you find us, _haheeehhh_.” He kind of ruined it at the end.

“We followed your trail of candy wrappers,” Boruto presented a plastic zip-lock bag full of candy wrapper evidence. He and Sarada slowly circled their gazebo much like ravenous vultures.

“Well, we were going to Thunder Burger. You, Mitsuki, are invited,” Sarada flipped her hair around and did a shoulder shimmy that combined with a slight but effective narrowing of her eyes equated a quintessential Mean Girl (so, Delta. She was acting like Delta. Boruto was also doing it, just less convincing).

“So, what do you say?” Boruto raised his eyebrows. He was clearly going for callous but ended up looking more surprised than anything. “I can come up with activities for the three of us to do together. I can tell you what to do. Sound fun?"

“Thanks for the invite. But I think I’ll hang out with Kawaki today. Just sort of doing my own thing.”

Now, Boruto’s eyebrows hit his hairline in true surprise. He even stopped circling them (Sarada almost bumped into him). “Oh, that sounds great! I’m so proud of yo-I mean,” he swept a hand over his face and returned to channeling ‘stone-cold-bitch’. So really, exactly like Delta. But not as good. “ _Oh_. I hope you have _fun_ together.”

Sarada flexed her hands in a series of gestures that Mitsuki clearly understood. Kawaki didn’t, though. He did, however, understand Mitsuk’s thumbs up. From context (and through Boruto and Sarada’s exchange of confused looks), it came clear that it hadn’t been the expected response. But, the two regrouped and recomposed themselves (mainly through hair zhoosing). 

Boruto clicked his tongue and popped up the collar of his tracksuit even straighter. “Well, ciao. We’ll be leaving now. To Thunder Burger.”

“Yes. Indeed,” Sarada said. “We’ll be in touch with you later tonight, Mitsuki, via text message.”

“To tell you about what happened at Thunder Burger.”

“Yes, _Thunder Burger_.” 

“You two have fun,” Mitsuki said.

His two friends exchanged shifty looks and slowly walked away backward. As soon as Mitsuki looked away from them(to make a flustered grimace at Kawaki), Boruto and Sarada caught Kawaki’s attention and mimed crushing a third person’s skull. Okay. Mitsuki looked up for a second and his teammates ceased their threatening charades. Yet, soon as he bowed his head again(and looked like a deer in headlights regretting their entire life), Boruto made an ‘I’m watching you’-hand gesture. Sarada lightly punched her palm in quick succession. The implication was clear. 

_You hurt Mitsuki’s feelings, and we’ll kill you._

But then they backward-walked around a corner of the school building, so Kawaki didn’t have to look at them anymore. Problem solved. He wasn’t intimidated. But, very curious-

“What did the hand signs mean?” Kawaki asked. “The ones Sarada used.”

“She asked if you were holding me hostage,” Mitsuki said. “They were surprised at my answer because thumbs up aren’t part of the secret Konoha hand sign code. Also because they really thought you were holding me hostage." His voice suddenly sped up to motor-mouth territory again. "Oh god, Boruto offered to hang out with me and I said no. Why am I like this?”

 _Not even going to touch on that one. Also, don't you hang out with Boruto all the time anyway?_ “Huh, that’s entertaining. Technically I’m the one being held hostage here. But why wouldn’t you use thumbs up on the regular?”

“It’s too obvious,” Mitsuki said. “Anyways, sugar has made me forget the proper sign. I love forgetting things. I hope this high will last forever. But more importantly, do you think Boruto thought I was being weird? Was I playing too hard to get? Also, has he ever asked about me, _me specifically_ , when I’m not around?”

Kawaki had been intentionally ignoring all of Mitsuki’s manic Boruto-related tangents this far into the conversation. He had no intention of changing that. “Well, if you love sugar that much, let’s say we keep it going?” Kawaki scraped his hand on the bottom of his candy bucket and dug into the now-thin layer of wrapped chocolates and other sweet treats and resurfaced with a black/obnoxious-lime-green can of soda. 

Mitsuki’s eyes widened. “A carbonated sweet drink? I’ve never even dreamt of having one.”

Kawaki gave him the can. “You go first, then. We can share one, right?” Mitsuki hadn’t mentioned Boruto’s name in several seconds. The distraction-technique worked!

With great anticipation, Mitsuki opened the can (the fizzy pop gave Kawaki goosebumps). “Cheers,” he said as he took a sip. And then, he choked. And coughed. He gingerly placed the open soda can in front of him. “It went down the wrong pipe. It’s coming out my nose.” (It was). “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. The bubbles hurt so much.” Mitsuki collapsed onto the ground in a fetal position. “It’s spicy water. Hell water. I hate it.”

"Can I have some spicy water?"

"No!" Mitsuki wailed/gurgled(he foamed out of his mouth. At lot). Then- "Oh, you mean out of the can. If you want to die, then sure."

"Ugh, I'll pass. Wait, what would I drink it out of other than the can?'

"I thought you meant if you could lick it off my face."

"Ew! No! That's gross!"

 _"Exactly_. Wow, I really am dying. What did I do to deserve this? I’m mostly a good person.” A thoughtful pause followed while Mitsuki stared up into the gazebo ceiling. “I should write in the Team 7 group chat about how bad I feel. They wanted me to check in anyway.” He dug his phone out of his fanny pack and typed at it furiously. “How do you spell ‘inconsolable’? Do you know? I can’t remember how. I hate this.”

“No, I-Stop texting!” Kawaki snatched his phone out of his hands. Mitsuki had typed up a text message so long that it took up the entire screen, but he hadn’t sent it yet. Good. Kawaki erased it all. This new brand of manic!Mitsuki was so much worse than the old one. Better keep him from his phone for a while, just in case.

“Good idea. I’ll re-write it when the sugar has worn off. I’ll be better at spelling then.” Another ceiling-gazing pause. “But wait. When I’m back to normal I'll go back to screaming into that stupid pillow so I can feel nothing. Guess I just have to keep eating candy.” Mitsuki scrambled on the ground and found a random piece of ground-chocolate. Then, he ate it.

“You’re being overdramatic.”

“Says you!” Mitsuki pointed an accusatory finger at him (and continued to eat candy pieces off the ground. It was sad. He would probably end up accidentally eating a glass shard or a small rock sooner than later). “But I can’t be mean to you. You’re my only friend. I can’t lose you.”

“What about Boruto and Sarada?”

“Right, I _can_ be mean to you. You think you’re so cool with your two-toned undercut, stupid face tattoo, and defined biceps, but you’re awful!” Mitsuki got up only to pace around the gazebo, like a restless caged animal. 

“What?”

“My friends wanted to check in on me later tonight because you’re mean to me! All the time!” Backtracking, Mitsuki picked up the leftover soda can and punted it away all over the schoolyard lawn. “And your soda sucked!”

“I’m not mean to you.” 

“I hate you! You, and that Deepa guy from Kara that almost killed my friends twice-"

"You've met Deepa? The cannibal guy? You’re not the only one that hates him."

"-And I hate my parent for the empty husk of a person I've become-"

" _Huh_?"

"-scratch that, those feelings are way too complicated, they'll melt my brain. To summarize, I hate Deepa and I especially hate my paren-I mean, you! You… jerk!"

"Wait, you hate me that much?"

" _Yes_! You’re really mean! Just off the top of my head-”

  * _Earlier today, Kawaki had planned on bailing on their casual conversation. Mitsuki wasn’t stupid, he could tell._
  * _Yesterday, Kawaki had spent their whole training session implying that Mitsuki was crazy. Sure, Mitsuki did, indeed, agonize about maybe, possibly, perhaps being kind of crazy. Despite his relative success in compartmentalizing that fear into microscopic particles, the insinuation still bothered him greatly.  
_
  * _The day before that, Kawaki had asked Mitsuki if he always wore the same outfit every day. Yes, because laundry machines exist, you jackass-_



Wait, no. Mitsuki was definitely onto something there. “Yeah, I am mean to you!” Kawaki suddenly regretted every decision he’d ever made in his life. There were negative side effects to sugar after all. “I’m so sorry!”

“Whatever,” Mitsuki rolled his eyes and sat back down on the ground. “I’m used to adversity and have a troubled past. Did you know I was in a gang once?”

-

The conversation quickly turned into Mitsuki trying his best to convince him that the criminal gang he'd joined had been way worse than Kara. Kawaki had now learned that Mitsuki's old criminal gang had been a group of golems made out of clay. They had referred to themselves as the Fabrications and wore matching purple outfits. Their crimes included exploding one guy and a failed coup d'etat on the local government of a neighboring village. 

He didn't want to say it. But the Fabrications had nothing on Kara.

"What was their M.O?" Kawaki asked. "Kara wants total world domination. I think? It's unclear."

"The Fabrications wanted to become humans. Their golem bodies had an expiration date.”

“Booyah! Kara’s body modifications make us basically invincible- Why are you crying?”

“The golems died.” An indignant sniff. “Disintegrated into dust. Their coup d’etat failed because I backstabbed them.”

“I’m, uh, very sorry to hear that.”

Mitsuki crawled back into a fetal position and used his feet to shuffle around in a circle on the ground. “I made a friend there. His name was Sekiei.” He spun around faster and faster. “I basically killed him-Ouch!” He spat out a piece of chocolate that he had most definitely gotten from the ground. “It had a piece of gravel in it.” His frantic spinning slowed down.

“Stop eating candy off the ground, then!”

“Ok. But like I said, my friend died.” Mitsuki’s weird mental breakdown spinning sputtered to a standstill. "I tried to save him. I really did. It's possible that I stressed him enough to accelerate the rate of his deterioration, but his body was just not designed to keep him alive. I blame myself, which makes sense, but also not. He would've died no matter what I'd done." For the next few minutes, Mitsuki’s only sign of life was his labored cry-breathing. 

The sun had set and led the way into dusk. In the distance, the street lights lit up one-by-one. Kawaki wasn’t sure if he could do anything at this point that would improve the situation, but he knew that leaving Mitsuki on the dusty schoolyard ground at night would be a surefire way to hit rock bottom. It’d even be worse than the way he had destroyed the Uzumaki family dinner last night.

“Mitsuki,” Kawaki wiggled closer and poked at Mitsuki’s shoulder. No response. “Are you dead?”

“ _I_ _wish_.”

“Hey-Don’t talk like that, man. Look, it doesn’t matter if you’ve made some mistakes in the past. Who cares about that! There’s no such thing as an inherently bad person. Can’t you just-I don’t know- work on yourself and stop joining gangs?”

The streetlight by the gazebo lit up and bathed them in light.

“I have worked on myself,” Mitsuki rolled over to face him. There were giant tear tracks in the dirt and dust covering his face. And clothes. Kawaki desperately hoped that the stain on his left shoulder was chocolate. “I might seem like I’m fine. I keep myself afloat through pillow-screaming. but if I were to actually understand and acknowledge my emotions, I would be-”

“Like this, all the time?” Kawaki picked a stray candy wrapper out of Mitsuki’s hair.

Mitsuki slowly sat up by bracing himself against the gazebo wall. “ _Yep_.” A sharp breath. “I think I was supposed to be something, but it wasn’t this. I failed at it, whatever it was. My life is a total _wham-whaam-whamp_.”

“Wai-What does that noise mean?”

“I heard it once on television. I was able to tell from context that it means _failure_.”

“Okay. Well. You’re, like, twelve. You’re super young! Kinda seems like you have a lot of time to figure things out.”

“I’m not twelve.”

“Thirteen?”

Mitsuki shook his head. 

“Fourteen? Fifteen? I’m not going to judge you if you’re a late bloomer-”

“I’m not withholding my age because I’m insecure about being pre-pubescent. Achieving traditional masculinity is incomprehensible and uninteresting to me.” Mitsuki was using big words again. A good sign! “I don’t know how old I am. I don’t remember much of anything before coming to Konoha about 3 years ago to enroll in the Ninja Academy. All of my clones in my parents’ lab-basement appear to be around the ages of 10-12 though, which is identical to how I looked when I first arrived here. Considering those facts, I’d guess I’m around 3-4 years old.”

“Wait. _What_. You were created in a lab?" _Samesies!_ _Uh, except not that childish of a word._ “You have clones?”

“Yes. Most people I tell find it weird.”

“No dude, that sounds exactly like Kara! Well, I personally don’t have clones, but some of the inner members have clones! I was a lab rat though, were you?”

“Yes. I was in some sort of developmental psychology experiment. It involved medically-induced amnesia between test rounds so I don’t remember much of it, but I have a lot of nightmares that I never think or talk about when I’m awake. Except now.”

“My karma, the weird superpower thing that Boruto also has-” Mitsuki nodded along to Kawaki’s explanation. “-It was implanted in me through this huge experiment. There were like, a hundred other kids that were also implanted with it. I was the only one that survived.”

“That’s rough, buddy,” Mitsuki fished out a wet wipe out of his fanny pack and cleaned his face with it. It made him look a little less pathetic. He pulled his knees up to his chest as if to appear smaller. "I'm sorry I said I hated you. I don't. I was having a nervous breakdown and I deeply regret everything I said."

"Eh, don't sweat it. Happens to the best of us." A comfortable ambiance set in. So comfortable that Kawaki let his guard down completely.

-

“-So the leader of Kara, Jigen, is the worst of them all. He’s terrifying. He beat me. All the time. I hate him _IhatehimIhatehim_ -”

“My parent has told me a little bit about Jigen,” Mitsuki said. “Mainly that he ripped off giant chunks of their research without giving credit. But also that Jigen is secretly bald.”

“Whaaat?” This was the biggest surprise of the night. Kawaki straightened up against the gazebo wall in excitement. “How? He has this long ponytail! I’ve never seen him without it!”

“He glues it on,” Mitsuki assured him. “In fact, most evil scientists are bald due to radiation poisoning. There’s more to it, though. At an Evil Scientist fair a few years ago, Jigen’s pants ripped when he stood up from his seat at the conference table. Everyone pointed and laughed at him.”

“Really?” Laughing had never felt so natural before. It was hard to stop. “Aw, man. Dude! Jigen sucks!”

“Yes. He does.”

Kawaki wiped a single tear of laughter from his eye. Wow-ee. “So, what about your parent? They experimented on you, has great stories about Jigen, and what else-”

Mitsuki went from humming contentedly to quiet in a second. Then- “I don’t think you’d be interested. You said you knew Deepa?”

“Yep. Rest in pieces, _biatch_ ,” Kawaki blew a kiss in a non-specific direction. It was quite dark out now. This really was the best gazebo, what with the adjacent streetlight and all. He could still see Mitsuki perfectly through the harsh lines of shadow and bright light. "How'd you meet Deepa?”

“My team and I fought him. He almost killed Boruto and Sarada. Then, at our re-match, he almost killed them again. But a falling rock got the best of him. Good riddance.”

“That really sucks. I’m glad they survived. And that Deepa died such a pathetic death,” Kawaki snickered. “I have some gossip about him too, d’you wanna hear it?”

“Actually,” Mitsuki shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Steeled himself. “He didn’t just almost kill my friends. I almost died too. I keep remembering around that part. Long story short, I had to get a liver transplant. I had to be off duty for months. I’ve never felt so powerless before. It sucked. I still have nightmares.”

“Mitsuki, that-” What was he supposed to say? “-Sucks? I’m sorry to hear that. I really am.”

They sat in silence for a while. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but something nagged at Kawaki-

“Do you still have your pillow with you?”

Now it was Mitsuki’s time to gape at him like a fish. “ _What_.”

“You’re sad and angry about Deepa almost killing you! And a lot of other stuff! Can’t you acknowledge those feelings and release them by pillow-screaming?”

Mitsuki avoided eye-contact more than normally. “I don’t know about that, Kawaki.”

“Try it! You told me yesterday that you thought anger would make a good emotion for pillow-screaming!”

A pause. “Ok.” A quick smile. Mitsuki got up on his feet and, very well, pulled his screaming-pillow out of his fanny pack. He had changed the pillowcase since yesterday. The new one had a red plaid pattern.

“I feel angry and sad I often put myself in harm's way to help others. I have seen and experienced lethal violence because of this,” Mitsuki announced to no-one in particular. Well, mostly to himself. “And hereby I-” the rest of the sentence got muffled into the pillow. A short, good scream, and then;

“Kawaki,” Mitsuki said. “I felt my emotions and then I dealt with them. And not like when I was high on sugar. I feel like myself.”

“That’s great-” Kawaki found himself being enveloped in an unexpected hug. Mitsuki held on for a couple of seconds but stepped back only to rummage through his fanny pack again. Seizing the moment, Kawaki dusted himself off as inconspicuously as possible. Mitsuki had gotten so much dust on him.

Wait, Mitsuki had started talking again. “Thank you for tonight, Kawaki. It's getting late.The gift I bought earlier today is this-” He presented a felt toy mouse with a level of pride and joy that for him would’ve equaled that of a parent holding their firstborn child. “It’s for my cat. Mikazuki. They’re waiting for me back home.”

“You bought a gift for your cat?”

“Yes. They keep ignoring their old toys in favor of old wrinkled-up receipts. But Mikazuki deserves more than trash.”

“That’s-” _Loyal and supportive, just as Boruto had described Mitsuki the other night._ “-Really nice of you. Oh, right! I forgot to give you your phone back!” Kawaki patted down his clothes until he found the pocket in question. “This way, you can tell your friends you’re okay.”

"Thanks." Mitsuki’s phone went where all his other belongings went. Into the fanny pack.

“Also, earlier, you asked me if Boruto talked about you when you weren’t around?”

Mitsuki spontaneously combusted but reigned it in instantly. Successfully, too, this time. "Yes. I did. And I stand by that. I highly value his opinion of me. The rush of sugar made the pressure-cooked built-up romantic tension boil over-” 

“I figured. Anyway, yesterday night, he told me that you’re the most loyal, supportive person in the village.”

“ _Oh_ ,” A soft smile grazed Mitsuki’s face. Then; “What brought it up?”

“I was, uh, sort of shit-talking you.”

Mitsuki nodded wisely. “Yes. Your opinion of me yesterday was very low.”

They were just about to leave when a gust of wind rattled the leftover candy wrappers on the gazebo floor. 

"While I am about to fall asleep standing up", Mitsuki said, glassy-eyed and drowsy, "-Littering is a punishable offense. The local government will most definitely send a team of fresh genin to investigate us."

“Oh. _Right._ We probably should clean up after ourselves. As a start to our lives as law-abiding citizens.”

Together, they collected the trash (and the one soda can that Mituki had thrown away. They had to use the flashlight on Mitsuki’s phone to find it on the grass lawn) and disposed of it properly. When they left, it was as though they hadn’t been there in the first place.

-

Kawaki opened the front door to the sight of the clock on the wall telling him that he’d come home even later than yesterday evening. 

“Oh, Kawaki. Didn’t hear you coming in,” Boruto said flippantly. He had been too conveniently near the hallway for that to be a believable lie, though. ”You were out late. Did you get lost? Lost enough to do drugs? _Junkiesayswhat_?”

“No, no, Mitsuki and I just ate a bunch of candy. And, he walked me home after.”

“ _Really_?” One word, but shock-full of passive-aggression. Crossing his arms completed the act.

“Yeah. He’s actually pretty cool. I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I was wrong about him.”

In one millisecond, Boruto’s bitter demeanor flip-flopped to a hundred-watt-smile.

“ _Really_? Then right this way, bro-bro!” Boruto ushered him into the kitchen. The only other Uzumaki family member still awake, Boruto’s Mom-no, _Hinata-san_ , had curled up in a living room chair.

“Welcome home, Kawaki!” Hinata-san put a bookmark in her book and closed it. “There’s-”

“I was just getting to that, Mom!” Boruto interrupted. He opened the fridge and pulled out a plastic-wrap covered dish of delicious-looking _something_. “Mom so graciously saved you leftovers from dinner, and I’ll-” Boruto removed the plastic wrap from the dish and set a timer on the microwave. “I, Boruto, will be heating said leftovers up for you. You’re-a welcome.” He bowed deeply with a flamboyant hand flip for extra flair.

“Thanks, but I already know how to use a microwave. I used one to heat the mush Kara served.”

"I guess this is just your lucky day, then!" The microwave bell dinged and Boruto busied himself with setting the table for Kawaki.

Hinata-san went into the kitchen and leaned against a squeaky-clean counter. As soon as Boruto wasn't paying attention; she said; "Consider it a peace-offering." Complete with an underhanded wink.

The table for one had been successfully laid out. Boruto proudly admired his handiwork(he had even folded the napkin into an artful rose) for a split second, but then; “Anyway, I’m gonna crash now. See ya!” Boruto peaced out and stomped his merry way upstairs. Hinata-san stayed quiet for as long as her son's footsteps echoed in the house.

“Kawaki, do you want to eat alone?”

“What?” Kawaki mumbled around his third bite of whatever the leftovers were. It was so, so good. And he was so, so hungry. “No, you can be here. Read your book, or-?”

Chair legs scraped against the floor as Hinata-san sat down across him at the dinner table. “Kawaki, I was about to go looking for you. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I could find you no matter how lost you get.” A gleam of something intense and a little bit scary sparkled in her eyes. “But you’re living under my roof now, and that means you have a curfew. Stay out after 10 pm and you’ll be in big trouble. Understand?”

“Sounds good.” Another bite and he’d cleaned off half the plate. “Anyway, Hinata-san. What’s this dish called anyway? It’s a thing with other things inside it. Whatever it is, it’s really good.”

A small gasp fell from Hinata-san’s lips. Her glossy dark hair shrouded her face for just a moment, but she recovered soon enough. “Oh, it’s called omurice. It’s an omelet with rice inside it. The red sauce on top is called ketchup.”

He chugged from his glass of water. All that sugar had made him incredibly thirsty. “Did Boruto stay up this late just to see if I got home?”

Hinata-san smiled. “Yeah. He was worried. Even though he would never admit to it out loud.” She released a chuckle that transitioned into a yawn. It caught on, and Kawaki realized that he was, in fact, exhausted. “ Kawaki, I can stay up with you until you’re finished, but I’m going to bed after that. Will I see you at breakfast tomorrow?”

Smiling, Kawaki poked around on his plate to pick up the pieces he’d realized were the tastiest. He’d thank Hinata-san for the food later(but very soon. He struggled to keep his eyes open). And maybe tomorrow, she could show him the library.


	3. fireball shots and other things that may not work out how you thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok last chapter! thanks to @reaperduckling for supporting me through this journey of complete dumbassery and telling me that my jokes are funny

As time passed, the Uzumaki family homelife quieted down. Of course, there were the occasional moments of friction. But those petty arguments paled in comparison to Kawaki and Boruto’s prior daily attempts at ripping each other's throats out. Well, Kawaki had started learning ninjutsu from Lord 7th. Sometimes his sparring matches with Boruto went too far(their egos bore the worst bruises, though). But the typical Uzumaki household arguments included(but were not limited to):

Fights over Himawari stealing Kawaki’s toothbrush to brush out the mats in the curly ringlets of her favorite doll.

(“Why would you do that? All you’re doing is getting my mouth germs on your dolls. That’s the grossest part about it.” Himawari put the toothbrush down with a somber sigh. “You’re right. I’ll take responsibility by picking strands of doll hair out of it.” “Ugh, don’t bother. I’m just going to get a new one out of the cabinet toiletries stash.”)

Fights over the best pieces of yakiniku beef.

(“Your taste buds are busted anyway. You won’t appreciate it like I will.” Boruto taunted. At the last millisecond, Kawaki snatched the piece of beef away from his foster brother’s enclosing chopsticks. Boruto’s smirk transformed into a portrait of pure anguish.

“What?” Kawaki said between celebratory bites. “It’s not my fault you have short arms.”

Lord 7th and Hinata-san exchanged dead-eyed stares. Lord 7th massaged his temples and covered his face. “You act like we don’t feed you,” he muttered down into the tabletop.)

Fights caused by Himawari cheating at cards and Boruto not letting it go.

(“Himawari, I can _tell_ that you’re using byakugan! That’s cheating!”, “You’re just jealous because I have byakugan and you don’t.” She stuck out her tongue and Boruto retaliated by chasing her around the house while swatting a broom after her. Hinata-san got _so_ mad.)

Fights and squabbles over trivial things, over rude behavior, getting scolded by their parents for not getting along (Well, Lord 7th and Hinata-san weren’t _technically_ Kawaki’s parents. But at this point he couldn’t tell the difference). One time Lord 7th said he’d work late. But when Boruto kept nagging him over the phone, he came home early. They all spent the evening watching TV. It was so _boring_. As someone who had never experienced any sort of stability, the steady mundaneness of everyday life confused Kawaki greatly. As time went on; the boring moments became his favorites. 

Hinata-san packed up some of the grandma decorating in the guest room into cardboard moving boxes. Something about how Kawaki’s room should fit a teenager better. He even got to put up one (1) poster. 

“Wow. _Thanks,_ Mom,” he snarked before he could filter himself. To hide his flushing face he busied himself with putting up his one (1) poster; a motivational poster depicting a big flying shark with a sword drop-attacking another, even bigger shark. “Sky’s the limit!” it read in flaming orange letters. It was cheesy. Embarrassingly so.

“Naruto-kun picked it out for you!” Hinata-san said. The warmth in her voice got to him, even if he very pointedly wasn’t looking at her. “He said that the motif was really popular back when he was a teenager.”

 _Yeah, hundreds of years ago._ “Thank you. It’s nice.”

His room didn’t just have one (1) new poster, a book lent from the library also rested on his (now doily-less) nightstand. It was about a guy getting alien-abducted, or something? He couldn’t wait to read it. Nowadays, even the window blinds stayed open during the day. What kind of person was scared of daylight, anyway?

-

Out of necessity, Lord 7th gave Kawaki a cellphone. “That way, you can call your new friends!”

That wasn't quite right, though. “My only friends are Boruto’s friends. They see each other every day. I don’t need to call them.”

Lord 7th looked around in Kawaki's bedroom in search of a more convincing argument. His eyes fixated on the shark poster. “Well, think of it as a present, then. When’s your birthday?”

“I don’t know.” If Kawaki had known it, he'd forgotten it by now.

“Well, you know what. You gotta have had your latest birthday sometime, so it’s a belated birthday present.”

Kawaki scoffed. Mostly out of discomfort, although but it came out angrier then intended. “You don’t need to go through all this trouble for me.”

“Do you think this is going through trouble? Boruto keeps dropping his cellphones and breaking them, and every time he asks to get the newest, most expensive model. I once spent _an entire day_ looking for one specific toy that Himawari wanted. They've done this since they were toddlers. Out of all my kids, the easiest one to buy gifts for is you. Hands down.”

Kawaki couldn’t respond to that. What was he supposed to say? Too overwhelmed to even look at Lord 7th right then, he slipped his new cellphone into his pocket and sat down on his bed. “Well, uh, thanks. I need to take a, uh, moment. _Please leave_.”

Lord 7th huffed out a breath that could've meant either annoyance or amusement. Just to make sure, Kawaki snuck a peek as inconspicuously as possible. Lord 7th had a crooked grin on his face, and he even pretended to not see Kawaki double-checking. 

_“Well,_ I’ll be downstairs when you’ve taken your moment.” Lord 7th left the door slightly ajar behind him, but five seconds later his footsteps down the hall reversed. “Oh, right. My bad.” He closed the door shut properly. Now Kawaki was suitably alone to try to entangle the tangled-up mess of complicated emotions that was his brain. He screamed into his pillow. It helped. Mitsuki had been right all along.

-

Turned out, none of Kawaki’s friends would actually call him, ever. They communicated through texting and texting alone.

-

 **Boruto:** dude can you look out of the window and check the weather for me

 **Kawaki:** can’t you check it yourself?????

 **Boruto:** no im too tired to get up. please just do this for me. i have done so much for you, and you refuse me when i ask this of you in return???? for shame kawaki

 **Kawaki:** no. just look it up on your phone stupid

A loud thump came from the other side of Kawaki’s bedroom wall. Boruto must’ve kicked it in retaliation.

-

 **Sarada:** Are you home, Kawaki?

 **Kawaki:** yea what of it

 **Sarada:** Boruto wants to know if you want to come to Thunder Burger and hang out.

 **Kawaki:** why didn’t he text me himself?

 **Sarada:** He dropped his phone in a puddle. Again. At this point, he has to be doing it on purpose.

 **Kawaki:** ye probably….. anyways. not right now im reading a book and its really good 

**Sarada:** Sounds fun!

Five minutes passed.

 **Sarada:** no wait no ur lame kawaki!!! i hope your stupid book sucks

 **Kawaki:** is this boruto. did you steal saradas phone just to insult me

 **Sarada:** yeah she went to the bathroom and left her phone unattended. how’d you know?

 **Sarada:** oH GOD SARADAS BACK SHES GONNA KILL ME PLEASE TESTIFY AGAINST HER IN NINJA COURT SO I GET JUSTICE LSFNGPOHDNHONTRF

-

But one day, Kawaki got the weirdest text to date.

 **Mitsuki:** I made dolls to look like Jigen and my parent. Do you want to explode them together in a symbolic final act of emancipation?

 **Kawaki:** whut

 **Mitsuki:** I can explain later in person.

 **Kawaki:** whut

 **Mitsuki:** Just meet me outside your house in half an hour.

 **Kawaki:** wait whut?????

-

Sure enough, Mitsuki appeared on the street outside of Kawaki’s house exactly half an hour later. He stood in a spot very much visible from Kawaki’s bedroom window. Staring directly at him. Kawaki toyed with the idea of just closing the blinds and pretending that he wasn’t home, but that wouldn’t be nice _or_ a believable lie. Down the stairs and out the door it was.

“So, I’ll explain further,” Mitsuki opened with. He pulled not one-but two weirdly well-made sock puppets out from his fanny pack of wonders. One of the puppets was very clearly supposed to be Jigen.

“What. Wait. What?” It was almost identical to the real person. Mitsuki had even gotten the number of ear piercings right. “How did you know what Jigen looks like?”

“My parent has talked a great deal about how ugly he is. The descriptions were very detailed. Look, I attached his ponytail with velcro so it’s detachable. I was able to make them on such short notice by summoning snakes to help me out. They’re surprisingly good at sewing.”

“ _Okay_. And the other one is supposed to represent your parent?”

“Yes,” Mitsuki pulled the other sockpuppet (it had black hair made out of yarn and embroidered purple eyeliner) on his hand. “It’s made in my parent, Orochimaru's, likeness.” Mitsuki started emoting his sock puppet hand like it was the one talking. “Anyway, I thought we could sever ourselves from our bad parents by exploding them and watching their sockpuppet bodies turn into fiery ashes. It’s what they deserve.” The sock puppet made a shocked face to punctuate the sudden dark turn.

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to talk as yourself when you’re using a sockpuppet of someone else.”

Mitsuki’s arms went limp at his side. “No, that can’t be right.” He squinted off into the distance as if trying to solve the mystery of the meaning of life itself. It was very unclear whether or not he came to a satisfying conclusion. He put up his sockpuppet again and; “Are you in or not?” The google eyes of the sock puppet spun around in sync to its mouth flaps.

Honestly, a big ‘fuck you’ sendoff to Jigen sounded pretty good. And explosions were, in fact, awesome. Sock puppets, not so much, but the scales evened themselves out in the end.

“Hell yeah!”

-

Twenty minutes later, in a random forest clearing barely outside of town. The sun was starting to set. This better not take too long.

“Okay, first we have to dig a fire pit. Then we create the explosion.” Mitsuki offered a shovel to Kawaki. He just stared at it in return. This wasn’t how he had imagined it going at all.

“Why the manual labor?”

“Proper fire safety,” Mitsuki said. “Explosions often lead to fires. I know how fire works, and I would never unintentionally burn down a whole forest.”

“Would you do it _intentionally?_ ”

“Yes. I did it once on a mission as a diversion tactic. The ends justified the means.”

“Damn, you’re cut-throat.”

“Yes.” Mitsuki brought the shovel close to his chest again. “If you don’t want to dig, go find some big rocks to line the fire pit with.”

Kawaki would much rather just jump right into explosions, but Mitsuki didn’t seem like he could be swayed.

Some rock-collecting and digging later, the fire pit had been assembled. _Finally._ Kawaki grabbed the Jigen-puppet by its stupid ponytail and swung it around in the air. The ponytail detached at exactly the right moment for the (now bald)puppet to end up in the fire pit. He threw the ponytail in there too, just for completion’s sake.

“Nice,” Mitsuki said and put the puppet representing his parent next to the other one. If their respective parents looked as similar to each other as the puppets did Kawaki would start to suspect that there might be some family relation there. Mitsuki placed a surprisingly high number of explosive charms down and took a step back. Then, he put his arm in front of Kawaki and made him take another step backward with him. Then another. Yet one more. And another. Then-

“This should be fine,” Mitsuki said. “Remember to put your fingers in your ears when the explosives go off. Do you have any last words to say to Jigen, Kawaki?”

He searched his feelings, and knew them to be true;

“Fuck you, Jigen! See you in hell, you bald bastard.” He waved around his middle fingers in the air for good measure.

“ _Ah, yes_. I supposed being able to completely cut someone off is a good thing.”

“Sure is! He can go die for all I care. As long as I never have to see him again. Do you have any last words?”

Mitsuki’s eyes darted back and forth from Kawaki to the fire pit. _Nervous?_ “Not really. I’ll set the explosives off on five.” He put up his hand and started counting down his fingers. Kawaki jammed his fingers in his ears in anticipation.

_5._

If Jigen stopped having power over him, Kawaki would be so much happier. He could even trust the people in his life now. Like it always should’ve been.

_4._

Kara was still obviously a threat, but that was nothing Lord 7th and the rest of Konoha couldn’t fix. 

_3._

Mitsuki’s eyes still darted back and forth. Something pinched had entered his expression. He was probably just nervous about accidentally starting a forest fire despite all of the safety precautions.

_2._

This was going to be awesome. A big, firey sendoff to the world’s worst excuse for a Father.

_1._

Kawaki shut his eyes and braced himself.

_0._

Nothing happened.

_-1._

His eyes fluttered open. The forest clearing still bathed in regular late afternoon/early evening slightly-muted light. Before him, the firepit looked exactly like it did before. Only the Orochimaru-puppet was missing. Where was it-

Mitsuki held the offending puppet in his hands. He gripped it tightly as if he couldn’t decide on if to hug it or tear it into shreds. “I can’t. I’m still in contact with my parent. I have no idea what I should do. I wish I could just leave them behind. You can do that with Jigen, and I admire that.”

“Wait. What?! Then why’d you suggest this?”

“I thought I could be cool like you.”

“Dude! You don’t have to do things you don’t want to impress me-”

“I know. You know, there is a possibility that Jigen supposedly being bald might've been something they made up.”

“Wait, what does that have to do with anything-”

“I’m getting there,” Mitsuki put up his hands as if to demand patience. “But as I was saying, maybe my parent is the bald one and just projects it onto others? I also suspect that the story about Jigen’s pants ripping might’ve been fake or greatly exaggerated. Or perhaps the pants-ripping was caused by a prank pulled by my parent to get back at Jigen for stealing their research?”

 _What the hell was happening_. “Okay. Okay. I get that. But I have no idea how this is relevant to anything?” Kawaki’s brain was crying.

“The point I was getting to is that yes; it’s important to obliterate your enemies as ruthlessly as possible. That I can respect. However, I don't like that they lie all the time. I have a hard time telling if anything they say is true or not. I don’t know anything about them. I said that I hated my parent. I don’t. I think I’m supposed to love them. But I don’t know what that feels like. Even if this is how it’s supposed to feel like, it feels wrong.”

“Well,” Kawaki’s (crying) brain was way out of its league here. “Can’t you just, like, not talk to them? You live alone, right? And they live-”

“Out in the middle of nowhere. You are right, I do try to avoid talking to them as much as possible. They can be really helpful, sometimes, like when I almost died and got a liver transplant. They did the surgery on me. They always make sure that my medical needs are met. But I was stuck in that lab alone for so long. I didn’t get to talk to any of my friends. My family barely spoke to me, and whenever I’d get upset they’d just give me sedatives. It was very lonely. Most other kids have parents that support them emotionally. Most other kids don’t feel like their life has no value-”

“What? Where’d that come from?” At this point, Kawaki’s brain might just as well be a shriveled up raisin.

“Oh. It’s probably a trauma thing,” Mitsuki dismissed him. “I’ve almost died to save others several times. Deepa was the latest time it happened, but it’s happened before.”

“That’s stupid! You’re a… person! You shouldn’t throw your life away at the drop of a hat.”

“Boruto has told me that about twice a week for years. I guess I just didn't believe it.”

“Well, you better believe it, then!” Kawaki pumped his fist into the air. “You deserve to be happy! I have literally no idea how to solve your family situation, but what your parent is doing to you is not okay. They suck! Now, explode that stupid sock puppet and stop caring about what they think!”

Mitsuki stared at him for a moment with the blankest non-expression he’d ever made. “You’re right. And it’s very obvious that you’ve been spending time with Boruto.” He grabbed the sockpuppet with one hand and held it as far away from both himself and Kawaki as possible.

“Is that a bad thing?” _Please let it not be._

“No. It’s a good thing. What you just said is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” A snap of Mitsuki’s fingers released a spark of electricity that caught the sockpuppet on fire. “So long.” He threw the flaming sockpuppet towards the fire pit. Time seemed to slow down as its graceful airborne arch contrasted with the absolute hellscape that was a burning sock puppet (with google eyes). They put their fingers in their ears as the flames impacted with the generous amount of explosive charms in the fire pit. The brute force of the explosion knocked Kawaki off his feet. He tumbled back-first onto the grassy ground. Mitsuki, somehow, still stood upright. The aftershocks of the explosion created a strong breeze that caught in the sleeves of Mitsuki’s shirt and rustled his hair. He caught a flyaway spark of ember in his fist and extinguished it with a sizzle. 

“Mitsuki?”

He turned around. Mitsuki’s eyes reflected the flickering red, orange, yellow light of the blazing fire. It reminded Kawaki of his friend’s attitude against extreme methods, including but not limited to, starting forest fires as a ‘diversion tactic’;

_The ends justify the means._

-And promptly decided to never cross Mitsuki, ever. Never ever. _Ever._ He flinched when Mitsuki took a tentative step towards him.

“You fell over,” Mitsuki stated. Whatever had seemed scary about him just seconds ago vanished. “Do you want to get up again?” He offered his hand as support.

Yes, Kawaki would _very much_ like that.

-

The forest fire ended up being contained in a bonfire, just like Mitsuki had said. Just as they were about to leave, a nearby bush rustled. They weren’t alone in the forest clearing anymore. A husky guy in a rainbow propeller cap emerged out of the bush; “Wait, did you guys start this huge fire?”. Distress was written all over his face. “I came running as soon as I saw the mushroom cloud!”

“...No?” Kawaki’s voice broke and trailed off to a point where his lie wasn’t very convincing. Luckily enough, the guy didn’t seem to notice.

“Aw man, that sucks. I’d like to shake hands with the one that started it because it’s a great fire. It’s safely contained and everything! I gotta seize this opportunity and tell the whole town about it!” The man fished up his cellphone from a pocket in his cargo shorts and before they knew it-

-

The forest clearing swarmed with party-hungry Konoha residents. Blending into the crowd was easy enough. The propeller-hat guy must’ve had plenty of contacts. In a blink of an eye, an assembled sound system and potluck-style snacks-and-drinks station had been summoned. Kawaki and Mitsuki were offered soda, but they chose to instead fill their plastic cups with water.

“I’m not sure why we’re still here,” Kawaki said. It was hard to carry a conversation with the loud pop songs blasting in the background. Standing far off to the side ensured that he’d at least be able to complain to Mitsuki about the absurd series of events. “This kind of stuff isn’t my scene.”

“I like people-watching, so I’d like to stay awhile. But if you’d rather go home, I understand. I can just come back later.”

“No, no. _God no_ . I don’t get lost in Konoha anymore. I can walk myself home,” Kawaki assured him. But. Suddenly, he’d rather not. “You know what, I can stay until ten-ish. It’s not _that late_ yet.” He chugged the water in his cup and turned around for just a second to throw it away in a trashcan a few meters away. A familiar, pitchy tween boy voice carried over the music, and when Kawaki turned back-

“Ey, dudes! I didn’t know you both were here?” Boruto asked. News traveled fast in Konoha, it seemed.

“Yeah, we were just in the neighborhood,” Kawaki said.

“We originally started the bonfire,” Mitsuki _snitched._ “We were attempting to get closure by exploding symbolic representations of our dark pasts. Hence the fire. We got caught and pretended it wasn’t us. The lie worked. Then things escalated.”

“ _Dude_ -”

“Noice!” Boruto cheered. 

“It’s been an interesting day,” Mitsuki said. “I’m glad you came here, Boruto. You’re so spontaneous. It’s admirable.”

“Thanks! Better yet, I’m not the only one in our friend group that showed up. Sarada and Cho Cho are over there, somewhere? I can’t see them. They’re somewhere around that guy-” Boruto pointed to the rainbow propeller cap guy from before who aggressively tore it up on the makeshift dance floor. He backflipped yet again and sent sweat droplets flying just about everywhere. Somehow, his hat was still on his head. “-Y’know, he was the one that organized everything. He’s the true spontaneous hero worthy of your admiration. But I did bring some things to the table.” Boruto pulled a small plastic-wrapped crackling _thing_ out of his pants pocket. “Piece of candy?” 

_God no!_ Kawaki power-shrieked in disgust, anger, and shame. Not on purpose, mind you. It was a reflex.

“ _Okay_ ,” Boruto scoffed and quirked his eyebrow. “You scared of candy now? That’s excellent blackmail material. Mitsuki?” He grasped the candy by its wrapping between his index finger and thumb and dangled it in front of Mitsuki’s face.

“Thank you, but no.” Mitsuki put his palm up and gently pushed away the pendulum-swinging offered sweet. “Sugar is the devil’s granule.”

“Well, suit yourself.” Boruto unwrapped the candy and plopped it into his mouth. “ _Mhoah foh me.”_ He chewed furiously and swallowed with a gulp.

Somehow this was something that earned adoring heart-eyes from Mitsuki. “Wow, you’re so unpredictable. It’s so interesting.” His tone of voice had even turned airy. _Somehow._

“Thanks! I am widely known to be pretty awesome,” Boruto popped up his tracksuit collar yet again. A not-so-distant memory of Boruto reminding his Dad to iron and starch the collars on his newly-washed tracksuit jackets flashed before Kawaki’s eyes. “Anyways-” He elongated the s to the point of it coming more like a z. “You wanna go dance, Mitsuki?” He offered his hand with a flair to his wrist.

“Maybe later,” Mitsuki said. “Kawaki and I have a matter to discuss.”

“Oh, okay,” Boruto nodded along. “Oh, there’s Sarada. I’ll go ask her then. Join us whenever you have _discussed_ your _matter._ Later, dorks.” He turned on his heel and swaggered over the field towards a giggling group of girls standing near the dancing couples (and that one dude still doing backflips). Said giggling group of girls included a certain girl with red glasses and shoulder-length black hair. She had actually dressed up. The oversized black hoodie she’d tossed on had embroidered flowers on it and everything. Kawaki shivered and regretted his sleeveless shirt. The temperature had dropped since sunset, and the warmth from the bonfire didn’t quite reach him at this distance.

In the not-so-far-off distant land of ‘across the yard’, Boruto had reached Sarada. Their voices didn’t quite travel far enough for Kawaki to hear, but the scenario playing out in front of him didn’t need dialogue.

Boruto asked Sarada to dance (the group of girls giggled).

Sarada made a big show out of rejecting him ( _ooh_ s and _aah_ s were made by the peanut gallery).

Boruto pretended that he didn’t care. And to prove how much he didn’t care he started doing some weird dance that Kawaki recognized from one of his video games (fleecing, felting? Something like that).

Sarada brought her hands to cover her face in shame. After about ten seconds she accepted his offer to dance if only he wouldn’t do _that_ dance (her friends giggled again). By this point, it was obvious that this turn of events had been Boruto’s nefarious plan all long.

Then, they danced together. Quite awkwardly at first, but their movements got more fluid the more speed they picked up.

Mitsuki blinked, hard, a couple of times. “Oh. He meant if I wanted to dance with _him_.” He started sloshing the water around in his cup between sips.

“Of course he was asking that!” Kawaki couldn’t help raising his voice. “He offered you his hand! You’re not even trying!”

Sarada now twirled Boruto around like a ballerina. The back-lit contrast of the blazing bonfire behind them was quite striking. Dramatic, even. It added a life-or-death severity to tweens dancing goofily to bass-heavy pop music.

“I regret everything,” Mitsuki deadpanned. The incongruence between the delivery and actual words spoken was, real talk, hilarious. However, now that Kawaki considered Boruto a brother, witnessing an aspiring Team 7 love triangle got real weird real fast. They’d work it out eventually. Probably?

“Couldn’t you just go dance with them? He said that you could.”

“I have to ask you something first.” Mitsuki crushed his empty plastic cup into crumbly pieces. The sudden crunch made Kawaki jump. “Sorry about that.” Mitsuki extended his arm to the nearby trash can and disposed of the leftovers.

“It’s alright.” No response. Just quiet not-quite-meeting-eye-contact. Mitsuki probably felt bad about spooking him. “ _Really_ , it’s okay. What was the question?”

"Before you came to Konoha, where did you see yourself in a year?"

“ _Oh_ ,” Kawaki’s pre-Konoha life seemed so long ago now. He kept forgetting about it, more and more. And when he’d remember, the pain could be described as ‘ _psychological stabbing'_. "I thought I'd make an escape attempt too many and that Kara would finally kill me off for being a nuisance. I was kind of hoping for that, actually. They'd never let me go alive."

Mitsuki silently gave time for Kawaki to collect his thoughts some more. He was a good listener (when he wasn’t sky-high on sugar). Kawaki ended up on a conclusion he was okay with; “I don’t feel like that anymore, though. What about you?”

"I also thought I was going to die sooner rather than later to save my friends. I didn't see myself becoming an adult. I had no interest in it. It was very sad.”

“Yeah, that is sad.” _Yeesh._ “Can you imagine yourself becoming an adult _now_?”

“I don’t know. Hopefully? I’ll get to it when I get to it, I guess. Things haven't changed that much yet.” Mitsuki shifted the subject with an incredibly nonspecific shrug of his shoulders. “What do you want to do, Kawaki?”

Rapid footsteps and an overjoyed Boruto interrupted them. “Mitsuki, have you guys talked enough yet? We’re running out of dance moves, and we need three people to do that routine we practiced. Please?” He shot a (perhaps playfully exaggerated) dismissive sideways look at Kawaki. “I guess you can come too?”

“Pass. I’m too cool for you losers.”

His brother responded with a dramatic eye roll and gagging noises.

Mitsuki’s eyes darted back-and-forth between Kawaki and Boruto. “You were about to tell me something, Kawaki?”

“Nah, I’ll tell you later. Go dance, or whatever.”

With a celebratory _“Hah!_ ” Boruto grabbed Mitsuki by the wrist but ended up being the one getting dragged towards the dancefloor by his friend’s jump-start of a sprint.

Well, that sorted that out. 

Kawaki could focus on other things, such as the night sky above him. The starry sky of Konoha was bleaker than what he was used to, even like this, a bit out into the woods. Whenever he had ended up in the middle of nowhere on an escape attempt from Kara he’d gotten a crystal clear view of the milky way. Maybe Kawaki and his family could go on vacation to a place with less light pollution when Kara wasn’t a threat anymore. _Ugh, not going to open that can of worms_ . Well, besides seeing clear starry skies again, Kawaki had an idea of what he wanted. Sort of. Although basically _everything_ future-related was uncertain.

No-one would hear him say it over the loud music, the screechy shouting from partying tweens, or the crackling bonfire. He could keep it himself, for now.

(Or at least until Mitsuki had gotten all danced out. That probably wouldn’t be soon, though. They jumped around in a three-person synchronized dance routine. Smiling and laughing. The dance floor had attracted a fairly huge crowd by now.) 

Well, here goes- 

“I can’t wait to find out,” Kawaki said to no-one in particular. Skulking around alone had gotten a bit boring, though. Pretty cold too, since he hadn’t brought a jacket. Honestly, he’d rather bop around like an idiot with his friends. A bass-heavy upbeat song started blasting out of the speakers. A chipper female voice sang of love at first sight and begged her crush to _call her, maybe_? It was an utterly ridiculous song. But incredibly catchy. Kawaki could drop the ‘cool’ act for just one night, right? 

He joined his friends on the dance floor and in return was greeted by resounding (voice-breaking and pitchy) cheering.

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! please comment and leave kudos if you liked this! :D


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